*
slowing down
my thoughts like
a hand to stop
.
a wild river yet
.
that split second
is still water to
my thirsty heart
.
May24
Wild River
May16
Call
*
to call my name
to myself
to call me out
of the many voices
to call often
away loneliness
has left me
we do not miss it
.
May9
All The Seeds
*
he sleeps next to me
as sleep avoids me
.
I try to rest one piece
at a time breath after breath
.
he knows best as the moon
rises late behind the roofs
.
me I can’t wait for the sun
to shine on all the seeds
.
I planted in me
and in the dirt
.
May3
How Thick
*
how thick
is my gaze
laying upon
an object
.
but what
lightness
have my eyes
laid on nature
.
Apr30
Per una volta
Once in a while, on a Sunday, the posts are dedicated to Italian poetry.
*
mi resta poco
ogni giorno
scelgo cosa
dire e cosa muovere
ogni giorno
scelte sullo scontato
abituale
salvo energie per la cura
salvo me
spero per una volta
.
Apr26
Let Me
*
let me repeat every day
the same act of devotion
the same gesture of starting
a poem to pick from the air
your words and to line them
up on paper let me infinitely
.
Apr18
A Longer Dream
*
the painting paints itself
the poem hulls out a story
the clay molds its shape
.
the body I live in softly
falls into a longer dream
on a cloth weaved to be
.
Apr12
One Thing
*
give me only one thing
the strength to open
my sails every morning
oh god that you may
lead me through oceans
.
Apr4
Clicking
*
I hang each thought
that comes to me
on one line
letters as clothes
pins clicking
.
Mar28
Ancestors
*
they don’t tire me
the dead
as the living do
.
Mar26
Prima Vera Domenica
Sunday’ posts are dedicated to Italian Poetry. Tuesdays’ poems will be in English, as always.
*
a noi non resta
memoria della neve
del suo cadere silenziosa
del suo coprire e calmare
del suo sciogliersi nutrendo
.
a noi resta
la terra dura dell’inverno
di una siccità sgradita
che porta ad una rigidità
non fertile al fuoco estivo
.
a noi che non badiamo
e nulla ascoltiamo noi
.
.
Mar21
A Never Ending Chain
*
I unfold my dreams
wet from the tiresome
night and their secret
coding drilling me
under the light of day
spread out line after line
.
Mar14
Breathing
*
it’s the stall that
makes me nervous
the space between
branches that
.
makes me breath
.
the silent wake up
calls before the
birds sing that
has me pray
.
Mar7
Transition
*
wider are the eyes
as a larger window
neat is the view
I do not feel the acute
angles as I know
I make a difference
.
.
Feb28
One Silence
*
it takes one silence
to enter another
silence to draw words
out of poetry
in that quite spot in us
.
.
annamosca 